


Flashes of light

by ElianB



Series: What feels right [4]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, But for that feeling of contentment in your own skin, Dick Grayson is Robin, Gen, He doesn't know it yet but his gender and presentation are really. The point of this fic, If you're trans you probably know what I mean, Non-Binary Dick Grayson, Not in this fic but it's that era, Self-Discovery, Supportive Parent Bruce Wayne, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-17 22:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19963936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElianB/pseuds/ElianB
Summary: Dick and Bruce go shopping and Dick finds a little more than what he set out for, if he'll just let himself have it.





	Flashes of light

**Author's Note:**

> Another short, self-indulgent fic. This one picks up right after the previous one and is brought to you by me feeling validated in my ‘Dick Grayson grows up to be non-binary and more feminine presenting’ headcanon because of Dick choosing to disguise himself as a little girl mannequin even though, logically, there could have and should have been little boy mannequins in the costume store, thank you very much. I know Dick’s disguise would have actually been a joke or maybe a ‘the reader will never guess where he’s hidden’ sort of thing or both, but I like it better as a ‘Dick saw the fluffy Little Red Riding Hood dress and wanted to put it on’ kind of thing.
> 
> Since I've come back with another fic I figure I'm likely to do so again, so I decided to talk a bit about what I’m doing with this universe in the end notes.
> 
> Lastly, this is still '40s Batman characterizations/dynamic but the time period I'm writing is probably the early '80s. I didn't really include any temporal indicators though so it's not that big a deal. However, the heart attack I had when I realized I needed to know how pagers work for a line was intense and the similarity of 2-way pagers to texting via cellphones came in like a lifeline.

At Dick’s request, he and Bruce were wandering one of Gotham’s major shopping plazas. Alfred had dropped them off a block away and it was only a quick walk to join the throng of people moving from store to store to street vendors. Bruce kept Dick close with a hand on his shoulder and watched their surroundings with a hyper-vigilance that was hidden by a pair of sunglasses and a lazy smile. The press of people around them made the wide sidewalk feel cramped and made the sticky humidity of the day feel even worse, but Dick didn’t mind too much.

He was on a mission.

He needed to find a nice box for the love letter he’d gotten last night and he refused to go home empty-handed.

He and Bruce moved through a couple stores, Dick prancing through the aisles, Bruce not far behind him. Dick would pick up the occasional object that caught his attention, examine it, and toss it around a little if it was small enough. Unfortunately, even when Bruce didn’t seem to be paying attention, Bruce was always quick with a, “Put that down before you break it,” so Dick’s fun never lasted long before the objects were being set back down on the nearest shelves with a grumble or an eyeroll and he was moving on to new aisles and new things.

Despite the plethora of interesting items, no noteworthy boxes popped up until they wound up in an antique store. The air was oddly citrusy, something Dick supposed was meant to hide the smell of dust and age from the furniture and clothes. The front of the building was all windows, their light shining in on the checkout counter to the left and an array of candies and shopping baskets to the right.

Dick smiled and waved at the checkout lady, sitting behind the desk with a book laying in front of her, one of her fingers stuck between the pages, alert, Dick assumed, only because of the bell that had chimed when he’d opened the door. She waved back, bracelets slipping down her arm, and asked, her eyes sliding over to Bruce, “Were you two looking for anything specific today?”

Bruce glanced at Dick, who shrugged and shook his head. He kind of doubted they had a specific ‘pretty box’ selection and he like the freedom of wandering on his own, anyway.

“No, thank you, we’re just looking for now,” Bruce told the woman.

“Alright! Well, if you need anything, I’ll be up here and there should be a few workers on the floor.” One last friendly customer-service smile and she was turning her attention back to her book.

As they walked further into the store, Dick could see that the center was largely taken up by furniture, areas of shelving kept along the walls broken up by clothing racks and what Dick thought was a jewelry counter along the back wall.

Dick hummed, glancing around the layout. Compared to the other stores, this one was practically dead. He could see five other people besides himself and Bruce and two of them looked like the other workers that the checkout lady had mentioned.

“Do you think we can split up for this one?” Dick asked. “You take that side,” he gestured towards the right, “and I’ll take the other?”

Bruce surveyed the room – and Dick rolled his eyes because, come on, the threat of being kidnapped couldn’t be that bad in such a small store with so few people inside of it – and ultimately ended up nodded. “Alright. You were looking for a box, weren’t you?”

“Yup!” Dick said, popping the ‘p.’ He bounced up on the balls of his feet, permission granted he was ready to _go_.

Bruce’s hand returned to his shoulder, keeping him in place as he said, “We’ll meet up by that,” his eyes narrowed on something, his head tilting to the side a bit, “ _interesting_ yellow… couch… in half an hour. Alright?”

Dick looked over at the couch and it… was definitely _interesting_ ; large and fluffy with big, plastic buttons scattered all over it. His head also tilted to the side. “Uh, yeah, sure. Don’t expect me to sit on it though.”

Bruce chuckled softly, squeezing Dick’s shoulder before letting him go. “I would never ask that of you.”

Dick grinned at him and set off, heading through the labyrinthine furniture towards where the shelving started on the left wall, figuring he’d work his way backwards.

Unlike at the previous stores, as Dick skimmed the shelves, he was very careful not to touch _anything_. One glance at the price of a figure that had caught his eye and he suddenly completely understood why the store was so empty. His eyes had gone wide and he’d let out a low whistle, taking a step back from the shelves for safety, as if just breathing on them the wrong way might break something. It made him terrified of what the yellow monstrosity that called itself a couch was priced at.

His faith in the antique store quickly diminishing, he kept looking, glancing over the shelves from a distance with his hands stuck in his back pockets.

It wasn’t until he was nearing the end of the shelves – ready to completely give up and go whine to Bruce about how it shouldn’t be _this_ hard to find what he was looking for – that he even spotted a box at all.

When he saw it, though, he gasped.

Stepping closer he gingerly picked it up. It was made of a dark wood, golden designs along its edges and keyhole on its front. He didn’t see a key, but even if it was lost, he didn’t mind. The bottom of the box was a soft, green velvet and the top was largely taken up by a window inlaid in the wood, designs from the sides etched into the glass. The whole thing was a bit hefty and seemed rather sturdy despite its delicate appearance. A price tag that Dick was too afraid to look at was attached to the box via a string tied around one of the hinges.

It was perfect.

A wide smile on his face, Dick hugged it gently to his chest and turned to head for the agreed upon meeting place.

As he did so, he realized he was practically inside the clothing section, racks starting just a few feet in front of him. Signs attached to the racks immediately before him stated ‘Women’s Dresses’ and they were practically bursting with color.

Curious, Dick shifted the box into a one-armed cradle and walked closer, pulling at fabrics and patterns that he liked. The dresses with dropped waists and sequins were fun and the ones with cinched waists and flared skirts gave him pause, but it was a dress made of red velvet that he really stopped to stare at.

It was simple, but awful pretty.

He fingered the soft material, knowing for sure that the girls he used to play with at Haly’s Circus would have loved it. When he wasn’t busy practicing and they were all too tired for games like tag, they’d play house, dressing up in the adults’ costumes to really get into the spirit of it.

Dick smiled fondly at the memory and as he let the velvet dress slip from his fingers his eyes trailed back to one of the dresses he’d hovered over. It was pale blue with polka dots and thick straps and looking at it now he felt a light flush of embarrassment, reminded of the times when he would wear things sort of like it.

He pressed his lips together and quickly shifted his eyes away, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Usually when he played house with the girls, he’d be the dad because he was the only boy who didn’t mind playing with them. Sometimes, though…

Sometimes two of the girls would be busy doing other things and then it’d just be himself and Cora – a girl about a year older than him with dark hair pulled into a ponytail and monolid eyes and light brown skin decorated with bandages. She’d come to get him if she’d been left alone, ask him if he wanted to play, a bag already stuffed with dress-up clothes hooked over her shoulder. Ever since the first time, Dick always said ‘yes’ and in some dark, secluded area of the circus the two of them would hide away he would play the mom and she would play the dad and something about the dresses and the skirts and being told he was pretty would make his heart thrum with happiness. He’d twirl and pose and absolutely eat up Cora’s giggles and compliments.

It was during one of those times that Cora, having gone worryingly quiet, had suddenly burst out and told him, soft and conspiratorial, that she didn’t think she wanted a husband, but actually wanted a wife. The words had been released into the world like a shuddering jolt and they’d stared at each other, an odd tension building between them, as Dick had scrambled for a reaction other than dumbfounded curiosity. He’d finally settled on a smile, his hands clenched tightly in the skirt of the dress he was wearing and his heart jack-rabbiting in his chest, and said, “I’m sure you’ll find one.”

It’d obviously been the right response because Cora had grinned back, her smile wide, showing off a missing front tooth, and then she’d lunged at him, hugging him tight.

The memories of secret evenings long past, sticking to Dick like syrup, he backed away from the clothing racks and swiftly moved past them. Knowing that he could never revisit those evenings caused a pang in his chest, but… But they were secret in the first place for a reason, the happiness matched by just as much anxiety. He told himself that things were better the way they were now.

Past the clothes were the cases of jewelry, the yellow couch in sight not far from them, but with no sign of Bruce hovering near it just yet. Dick sighed and set his box down on one of the jewelry cases and leaned against it, resting his arms on top of the glass, wanting a moment to collect himself. He very intently kept himself from looking back over at the clothing section, instead letting his eyes skim over the jewelry.

They were just as pretty as the dresses had been; strings of pearls and elaborate pendants and delicate bracelets and ornate rings. His eyes stopped on a pair of earrings near the front of the case: small gold hoops with star charms holding what looked like emerald centers.

Dick hummed and with a glance around to be sure no one was watching him, crouched down to get a better look at the earrings. His fingers were pressed to the glass, probably smearing it, and his breath was fogging it up and he was both glad a worker wasn’t around to see him at the case and really wished one was so he could ask to see the earrings. Just to look.

Just a little.

Dick was moving to stand up again when the deep voice of Bruce Wayne asking, “Did something catch your eye?” nearly gave him a heart attack. As it was, he jolted, bumping his head on the case with a loud thump and a surprised yelp.

Dick swiftly straightened up, a hand flying up to his forehead to rub at what was probably going to turn into a bit of a nasty bruise. Bruce was watching him, faintly amused. Dick rolled his eyes.

“Gee, Bruce,” he grumbled, “don’t you know it’s not nice to sneak up on people?”

“Sorry.”

He didn’t actually look all that sorry, so Dick shoved at him for good measure. It didn’t make Bruce budge so much as an inch, but it _did_ make Dick feel better and, besides, this was totally grounds for an all-out war, meaning Dick could get back at him properly later. Something involving a bucket of glitter and the Batsuit maybe.

As Dick was contemplating his revenge, Bruce leaned past him, peering into the jewelry case.

“What was it you were looking at, anyway? The jade bracelet?”

Dick moved around Bruce to grab his box. “I wasn’t really _looking_. I was just…,” Dick shrugged, “bored and waiting for you.”

Bruce hummed, his eyes still scanning the jewelry, paying Dick’s objection no mind. “What about those star earrings?”

Dick tried not to, he really did, but there was probably nothing that could have stopped him from tensing when Bruce guessed it.

Bruce obviously picked up on his reaction because the next words out of his mouth were, “Do you want them?” He glanced over at Dick, nodding towards the box in his hands. “I know we just came out for a box, but there’s no reason we can’t get you something extra if you want them.”

Dick pressed his lips together, shifting his weight, uncomfortable. He knew that Bruce wouldn’t be caught dead in something like those earrings, so he couldn’t understand why he was even offering to buy them for Dick in the first place.

Dick knew that it wasn’t-

That him wanting them wasn’t-

And, yeah, they’d had that talk last night, but… but this just wasn’t the same. Surely Bruce wouldn’t want Dick going out in public wearing stuff like that, so what was even the point?

“I mean,” Dick began, staring down at the box in his hands, “they’re kind of girly, aren’t they?”

There was a long pause, during which Dick could practically hear the gears in Bruce’s brain turning as he thought about how to respond. Finally, he seemed to settle on, “They _are_ more feminine, yes, but I hardly think that should stop you from getting them if you want them.”

“I don’t-” Dick… paused. The thing was, he _did_ want them and with them being offered right up to him, he wanted them _badly_. Just as badly as he wanted to relish the memories of Cora’s laughing voice asking him to twirl for her with every new dress and just as badly as he wanted to live those memories again and again until whatever _this_ was finally clicked into place and everything felt _right_. “…I don’t know.”

Bruce spared another quick glance at the earrings and nodded. “Alright. I think I’ll get them anyway. If you decide you don’t want them, they’ll make quite a nice gift the next time I need one.”

Dick scoffed. “You can’t just go around giving girls cast offs as presents. Even I know you have to put more thought into it than that.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows. “Then I suppose these earrings will just have to be yours.”

Dick narrowed his eyes, still reluctant to agree. “You’re being awful pushy, don’t you think?”

Bruce sighed, pulling off his sunglasses and hooking them onto his shirt, his expression serious. “If you’d really rather I didn’t get them for you we can leave them here, but, Dick, it’s important to me that you don’t feel like you have to hide parts of yourself away.”

“Except the Robin part,” Dick quipped back, almost automatically, as his brain tried to sort out how to feel about this sudden heart-to-heart he and Bruce were having in the back of an antique store.

Bruce laughed softly. “Yes, except the Robin part.” He shook his head. “But, really, if you want the earrings, I’ll get you the earrings. Hell, if you wanted a whole new wardrobe, I’d get you a new wardrobe! All you have to do is ask.”

Dick glanced between Bruce and the display case. Bruce hadn’t acted like he thought Dick was weird at all; he’d actually basically just stated that Dick had his full, unconditional support and that… that felt incredibly important, a rush of relief and gratitude that had Dick feeling like he was on the verge of tears. And besides, his ears _were_ pierced – Cora had done it for him – and it _did_ seem like a waste to never wear anything in them…

Trying his best not to sound choked up, Dick said, “Sure. I, um, I do think I want them.”

Bruce gave him a small smile and a pat on the head. “Okay, I’ll go flag down an employee, then, and we can see about buying the earrings and your box.”

Dick nodded, hugging the box to his chest.

It didn’t take too long to pay and get the items placed into a bag. It turned out that Dick’s box _did_ come with a key, kept in a drawer up at the front desk that was full of keys marked with numbered tags. After the checkout lady had located the key to Dick’s box, he and Bruce were parting from the store with a polite farewell.

Bruce had paged Alfred to let him know they were ready to be picked up and by the time they got back to where they’d been dropped off, the car was there waiting.

Dick climbed into the back seat, setting his bag down beside him.

“Did the shopping trip go well, Master Dick?” Alfred asked, peering at Dick from the rearview mirror.

Dick grinned, nodding. “Oh, yeah! I mean, it took _forever_ , but I finally found something perfect.” As Dick buckled up and Alfred pulled away from the curb, Dick chattered away about the evening, surreptitiously keeping the news about his new earrings to himself. He didn’t think Alfred would react badly; it was just… awkward to talk about.

Eventually he ran out of things to say and with Alfred’s statement that it sounded like he’s had a rather nice afternoon, he fell silent.

His eyes landed on his bag and he pulled it closer, reaching inside to grab the smaller, paper bag inside. His eyes flickering to the front of the car to make sure Bruce and Alfred weren’t paying any attention to him, he shook the earrings out into his hand. They shone in the center of his palm; mesmerizing.

Another glance towards the front of the car and he was putting the earrings on. They went in easily, his piercings having held up surprisingly well despite his having gone years without using them.

He fiddled with the earrings a bit. They were an odd, but comfortable weight on his ears.

He didn’t have anything reflective with him to look at himself in, and his reflection in the car window was too faint to really see clearly, but he could catch parts of himself and the occasional flashes of gold and green as the earrings caught the light.

It was as hazy as those memories of himself and Cora.

As hazy as those memories, and it felt the same; summer-tinged laughter and an uncontainable buoyancy.

It felt perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so here’s what I’ve got on the universe I’m working with:
> 
> Dick was still taken in by Bruce when he was 8-ish. I’m a big fan of people’s headcanons about Bruce resisting allowing Dick to be a crime fighting baby (instead of him being a-okay with it, and I don’t think that’s completely out of the blue for the context the ’40s comics have given me because Bruce does worry about Dick and has, on occasion, expressly forbidden Dick from going out with him because it’s “too dangerous”) so Dick didn’t start going out as Robin until he was 10 and that’s because he’s persistent. He was allowed to come along on an observation-only basis and didn’t start physically fighting criminals until he was 12, technically.
> 
> In reality, he would throw himself into the fray occasionally, then pester Bruce for ages about how he’s “ready, Bruce, come on!” until Bruce finally decided it would be safer if Dick was allowed to fight with him because then he’d be able to keep an eye on Dick the whole time instead of turning around and having a mini-heart attack because “Oh fuck, that’s Robin, how long has he been here?” He trusts Dick to handle more minor things on his own, but if there’s even a possibility of a fight against adults going on Bruce does not want Robin dealing with it without him there to help.
> 
> That being said, if a situation arises where Dick would have to fight bad guys alone, he doesn’t shy from it. I envision the surrounding circumstances of the ‘Fiasco’ I reference in the first fic (where Dick was dealing with a criminal without Bruce) as Dick having taken off after someone who’d split from a group of people that both he and Bruce had been fighting. And afterwards Dick got scolded for taking off alone without permission pretty much the same way he had scolded the kids chasing after him. Aside from situations like that, Dick has saved Batman’s life at least once and he’s confident in his ability to take on multiple adults at once and make them cry. Bruce finds the latter funny and endearing, but also worrying because both of those things just fuel Dick’s belief that he should be allowed to do more.


End file.
